


Little Aches and Perks

by ketchupfromyoutube



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Ashton Irwin fluff, F/M, daddy!ashton, pregnancy!5sos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:02:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4302318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ketchupfromyoutube/pseuds/ketchupfromyoutube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little blurb about your sweet husband Ash, and your very pregnant belly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Aches and Perks

The scent of the pillow your weary head rested on was minty. Minty and sweet and just like the lips of your husband after sucking on a candy. Car doors slammed in driveways neighboring you, families in a rush to get to school. The stickiness of your eyelids was the only discomfort you felt this morning, the clock on your bedside glowing 7:30 am. You relished the lack of nausea for a moment before realizing there was a soft hand stroking your hair. The figure knelt in front of the mattress got less blurry, and you could see it was Ash.   
    Curls messy from sleep, tangled from your groggy fingers curling in and about, willing the pain away. He smiled at you stirring awake, fingertips pressing into the pillow lines across your neck and jawline. Your back ached and you frowned because no matter the amount of sleep you got, that wouldn't change until the baby was born. Your 8 months pregnant belly pressed into the cushions supporting your side sleeping ways. Your legs crossed like a puppet folded over. Ashton looked every bit as fond and adoring he as could be.   
      
"Good morning mama," he whispered and pecked each knuckle on each hand.   
      
You whimpered at the twist in your lower back when leaning forward. Your husband gave you wetter kisses up your right arm, not stopping until he reached your collarbone. He spoke into the sleep warm skin.   
      
"You don't feel sick again, do you?" Ashton asked, looking ready to speed walk you to the bathroom. You’d been getting over yet another bout of morning sickness towards the end of your term. It was just lovely.  
    
"No. It’s just my back." You grip his shoulders, and he knows the drill.   
    Ashton's hands circle around your belly and lace at the small of your back, a place relative to where your waist used to be. Before you climbed on top of him in October and told him you wanted a baby Irwin.   
    "Here we go," Ashton pecks your cheek and lifts you up and onto your swollen toes on the carpeted floor. Out of bed and so SO pregnant, all you wanted was some breakfast and this baby OUT of you already. So, with every muscle in your fingers working to grip your husband’s biceps, you pad into the kitchen and blow out a tired breath when you finally get to sit again. You knew it would be futile to try and scoot the bar stool closer to the counter, but you don’t wallow for long. Ashton is pushing you gently with ease, right until you’re perfect distance from the beautifully syrupy stack of blueberry pancakes.   
      
“I love you, even though you did put this baby inside of me....I love you.” You moaned around a mouthful of the treat. Ashton watched you from the other side, chin resting in his palm. He widened his eyes at that, scoffing.  
      
“Excuse me, Mrs. Irwin. I do recall you riding me that night, moaning an groaning all about how knocked up I was going to get you.”

You gasp, nearly spitting out some orange juice before tossing a sticky napkin at him. Your aching feet swung above the tiled floor, thighs hot and already dewy with sweat.   
      
“You shut up! I am too pregnant to even think about what happened two days ago, let alone 8 months!”   
Ashton just laughs again, shaking his head and leaning into you, kissing the sweet maple taste off your tongue. “Alright baby, I’m sorry.”  
Licking into his mouth one last time, you stab another piece and go back to eating in silence. Ashton is just doing what he does everyday now, pretending to clean and organize the kitchen. He’s really just watching you, eyes trailing their own path down your cheeks. Rosy and glowing since keeping your little one safe. Down to your neck, a canvas for his lavender hickies and sunset love bites. To your breasts, swollen and sensitive and always making him stop and stare. And your tummy, big and though inconvenient, everything you two could ever ask for.  
Ashton’s been scrubbing the same spot on the counter for five minutes, (you counted) and not once did his eyes ever leave your sugary, munching lips.

Six minutes, and little Irwin kicked and moved all around. Seven minutes, and your pancakes only got sweeter with every bite.


End file.
